Without A Word
by RealmOfPossibility
Summary: One-shot from the With You Beside Me Universe. It only took two minutes for Snow to accomplish what nobody else ever had...


**A/N It's been over a year since I finished the With You Beside Me trilogy, but I got a request for a one-shot as a birthday present and I have trouble saying no. So, here's a little something Post-Whenever I Fall, perhaps a few days after, and before The Changing Day-the other one-shot I did. I begin with a few vague references to scenes from the three stories: With You Beside Me, What The Poison Gave Me and Whenever I Fall.**

**In case you don't know, this universe is set around Snow and Emma's adventure to the Enchanted Forest in early Season 2.**

**I know I have a lot of new readers since I started writing Outlaw Queen fics. Be warned, this probably won't be your cup of tea. Anyone got a birthday coming up? ;)**

**Happy Birthday crownedtiger :) This was for you anyway.**

Without A Word

_It's not safe…_

_She grabbed a passing tree before she could fall. Sweat made her hair cling to her neck and face and she could hardly get a decent breath. _

_It's not safe..._

_Where was her mother? Was Mary Margaret already dead? Surely, the universe couldn't be so cruel, to let it end like this. To die in such a pointless way, with no chance to properly say anything. _

_Emma's gasping breaths would wake the dead, she was sure, but she couldn't see anyone dangerous around. Where was the danger? All she had to fight with were her bare hands. Was that enough?_

_Her head spun. Everything around her shimmered and blurred…_

_She turned and suddenly found herself in the midst of a nightmare of screams._

_Screams of people. _

_Screams of ogres._

_Mary Margaret, sitting atop her horse and looking more like Snow than she had ever been, aimed her bow at the ogre in front of them. Emma watched from the ground, eyes and mouth wide open…_

_The arrow released from the bow, striking the ogre's cheek, causing it to roar with fury._

_Emma gaped, horrified, as Mary Margaret kicked the horse into a gallop and charged toward the trees. The ogre's keen ears picked up the sound of the horse's hooves again and, sensing an escapee, turned and followed. It ripped the stray arrow from its cheek and flung it aside._

_"No!" Emma shouted and took off after them. Ignoring the screams and calls for help, the fire and debris, she barrelled down the path into the trees. The ogre's heavy steps felt like earthquakes, making the ground groan and shake. Yet, she kept her eyes on Mary Margaret, who was growing smaller as the beast drew closer to her. But, even as Emma pushed herself faster and faster, the speed of the horse and the size of the ogre were too much._

_Helpless, she finally slowed to a stop and, chest heaving, watched her mother disappear further and further into the forest, the angry ogre roaring after her…_

_The sounds stopped abruptly. Emma turned…_

"_Emma, stay back," Mary Margaret cautioned as Cora drew closer, smiling wickedly._

_As Cora's hand punched inside her mother's chest, Emma started running._

_Stop her._

_Stop her…_

Her eyes snapped open and her body jerked as if she were about to fall out of bed. Darting her eyes around, she tried to adjust to the darkness inside the room.

Darkness and silence.

Lying on her back, Emma raised a hand to her chest, feeling her heart hammering away inside. She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her hand across her chest, as if that had a hope of calming the thud, thud, thudding of the organ within.

Not a chance.

Heaving a deep breath, she turned onto her side, looking towards the window. The blind was down, cutting her off from whatever moon was outside. She stared at it anyway.

The dreams had come every night since they had returned. As if her mind still needed the tension her body no longer felt. As if it needed her unconscious self to play through all that had happened, though it would probably take a lifetime to properly take it in.

But, the dreams centred on one person only. One circumstance only.

Her mother. Looking for her mother. Watching her disappear.

Losing her.

It was a situation Emma had long ago taught herself to deal with. Not the 'mother' part, she wasn't sure she'd ever get used to that. But, the loss. _That_ she was more than familiar with.

_That _she knew.

She had conditioned herself to believe in the idea that it was all temporary. From the moment she was sent back from some prospective parents at the age of three, though she didn't remember it, she had made damn sure not to fall for the lie. The lie that family was forever. The lie that a mother's love was…

True?

Emma threw back the sheets and lurched from the bed, making her way to the door. The darkness covered her like a blanket, reassuring her somehow, hiding her emotions from prying eyes. She made her way to the living area, her eyes immediately drawn to the curtain around _their_ bed.

Her parent's bed.

Walking soundlessly, she sank down onto the couch and lifted her hand, brushing back the sweaty hair from her forehead with a slightly shaky hand. Her head fell back against the back of the couch and she sighed, staring out to where she could just see the full moon shining through the window.

It was as if the dreams were her old self's last ditch effort to drag her back to her old life, now that she was back in the land that life had been. Her old life of solitude, of wishing she wasn't alone, yet being unable to reach out for something. Someone.

And now she had a family. Now, she had a mother who had shown her time after time after time that there was nothing, not a single thing, in the world that she wouldn't do for Emma.

Being someone's kid? That took work. That took hope and belief that had been wrenched away from her all too long ago.

It was the sound of bed covers rustling that pulled her attention back to where she was. Perhaps she had been thinking too loudly. The curtain rustled and soft footsteps moved across the floor. Emma didn't take her eyes off the moon, chewing her lip anxiously. She didn't want a conversation tonight. She didn't want to have to try and think of words that expressed the pressure in her chest and the burning behind her eyes. Some days, the words came and she let them slide out, haltingly, even as they sounded foreign on her tongue.

But, not tonight.

Not tonight.

The footsteps stopped beside the couch. Emma slowly turned her head and stared up at Mary Margaret. Snow. Both. Not either, but both.

Her mother said nothing, simply looked down at her for a long moment. There was no smile, no forming of words, no _Are you ok? _ or _What are you doing up?_ She placed a hand on the back of the couch and tapped her fingers against it, her eyes like shadows in the dark. Then, one corner of her mouth twitched upward ever so slightly, Emma wasn't sure what she was seeing. With a nod, Snow changed course and headed to the kitchen, where she flipped the kettle on.

Emma watched her mother move around the kitchen, grabbing a mug and opening and closing cupboards, pulling out a few things. She moved calmly, methodically.

Emma wondered if her mother ever dreamed of losing her.

Her eyes followed the woman until she disappeared out of the kitchen to somewhere behind her. In the absence and silence, she heard the sound of the kitchen clock counting out these moments, heard quiet snoring coming from behind the curtain, heard the water pipes creak and the kettle click off as the water finished boiling.

And it again struck her.

There were people in this tiny house. _Her _people were in this house. She felt their presence, their nearness in a way…in a way that she had no reference point. No previous experience to draw from.

The footsteps returned and Snow reappeared. Emma heard the quiet clink of a spoon and the sloshing of water into the mug. And then she moved out from behind the kitchen counter and carried the mug over to where Emma sat, holding it out for her to take. Emma reached out automatically, cupping her hands around the heat of the hot chocolate. Snow rounded the couch and returned a second later, holding a blanket.

Her baby blanket.

Emma watched wordlessly, lifting her arms a little as Snow draped the blanket over her knees and pulled it up until it covered her entire lower half. Then, she perched on the edge of the couch next to Emma and regarded her thoughtfully.

Her eyes crinkled in a smile that didn't register on her mouth. Emma imagined it was one of those smiles that a mother kept in her repertoire. A smile that came with the knowledge that Snow knew she couldn't take the world away, couldn't beat back all the monsters from twenty-nine years that might come calling. But, she knew they were there.

And that was enough.

Snow reached out and placed a hand on her knee, squeezing gently, while nodding slowly. Then, she stood, leaning over, and Emma felt the kiss against her forehead. It made her eyes burn and she blinked several times against it.

And watched Snow head back to the curtain that made up her bedroom.

She sat for a long while, draining the mug steadily, feeling the drink and the blanket warm her from the inside out. But, not more than that brief two minutes of something that felt so distant from anything she'd ever known.

But, more comforting than so many of the thousands of minutes that had come before.


End file.
